Anon He Sleeps by Erurainon

Anon He Sleeps

The fiends who betrayed the men of Dor Lomen are the folk of Uldor the Acursed who shed the blood of their sworn brothers when victory was at hand.

Anon he sleeps,
Anon he sleeps,
Upon the floor of hell,
His banner trod through mangled mire,
His starlit dream condemned.
Anon he sleeps,
Anon he sleeps,
Betrayed upon the storm,
By heathen thieves and hated fiends,
Who perished pressed by sword.
Anon he sleeps,
Anon he sleeps,
At tattered toils rest,
Wherefrom no man hath rung returned,
Woken from life’s test.
Anon he sleeps,
Anon he sleeps,
Among his liegeman grand,
All given to the midnight world,
By duty’s ruthless hand.
O silent stranger passerby,
Heed his word’s command,
Go tell the Noldor where they lie,
That here we made our stand.